Chapter Text
The deluge has been lasting for months now, flooding their crops and turning fields into lakes. The streets were also slick with water, winding like snakes through the little divots in the cobblestone as Shawmelk trudged through the thick puddles, muddying his fine boots. He’d been in town listening to whispers of how this was because they had a Changeling king ruling them, which was spreading throughout the kingdom like a thick fog.
It wasn’t the first time they blamed Shadowmelk for their problems, and certainly it wouldn’t be the last time either. It was better to get ahead of such stuff, so he knew how to counter.
Still, it sucked knowing many blamed him when natural disasters happened. Shadomelk knew it was easier to blame something tangible and easy than to find the real reason. If he hadn’t been so different, with two different collared eyes, one the colour of the deep ocean, the other the light blue of a bluejay's feathers, then maybe everything good and ill wouldn’t be laid on him like he was some mythical thing causing things.
Some would say he should be thankful that he’s heard much less. A king, unusual people like him, are usually considered changelings when they appear as infants and are left in the forest for the fairies to take back.
But no, he wasn’t grateful; he was irritated. It was a pretty story those awful people told themselves to alleviate the guilt of abandoning their kids to die. All because they feared the different and preferred the pretty story to dealing with anything that made them uncomfortable. If you truly believed the story’s then that was worse ‘my child is so unusual they must be unnatural’ or this ‘can’t be my child there not normal’ was a quite frankly disgusting outlook when you had a children, deciding what was normal and worthy of keeping by arbitrary rules that he never understood. To people like those, they didn’t like the truth that their baby was just unusual, and preferred it to just die.
No one like him should have to feel grateful for just being alive. They didn’t ask to be born! Laws had helped a little, but Shawmilk found lies worked best, saying they would find a way back into the house and curse it; you had to leave them somewhere safe in town, or they would hold a grudge against you. It didn’t stop it entirely, and it certainly didn’t stop discrimination, but at least people started leaving these ‘changeling’ children at orphanages instead of the woods. Still not the best situation, but better. Shadow Melk wasn’t satisfied with just better, though; he never was. It might not matter to some, a lie there child might normally could save the child for a time. Still, maybe he could find a way.
He trudged back into his castle, the guards opening the gates for him. Black sapphire took the clock he’d been wearing as a way to hide his identity. His right-hand man in taking care of documents and serving him. Though sapphire was sometimes unhappy about how Shadow Milk went out on his own, he knows his king enough to know he can’t stop Shadow Milk. He refused to be cooped up in the castle even if it was sometimes dangerous for him to go out. He would do his duty as a king and be as free as he wanted to be. Besides, it was better that he could always hear mud earrings like this that he couldn’t trust some people to repeat to him. He needed to know the unrest to fix it or at least know how to deal with it.
“ Anything to report, your majesty?” He asks. “Hmm, the masses might want to revolt because of the weather, but hey, that’s nothing new,” Shadow milk sighed. Sapphire nods sympathetically. “A lot of them blame you for the stupidest things; they don’t deserve such a king as you. “Of course, they don’t~, but I’m such a magnanimous guy, I couldn’t deprive them of the best leader in the world.” Shadow milk shrugged, grinning. It is not an exaggeration, he truly is the best one for this job, he’s intelligent, maybe too much so, charismatic, and when he wants to be very diligent, when he does not want to be, he’s vary good at knowing how to assign the work.
“So you have a plan then?” Black sapphire. “Pffft, of course I always have a plan, and if I don’t I’ll improvise perfectly,” Shadow milk said airily. It’s not the best plan going into the fairest, well, it was raining cats and dogs. But it didn’t matter if he had had enough. Besides, even though it wasn’t his fault, some would take up weapons if it didn’t end soon, and Shadow milk was sick to death of this constant blame on him or some unseen force. He held a town meeting the next day; it was a performance, really, words of silk and extravagant gestures. The crowd, before miserable and wet, is enraptured, as always playing right into what he intends. He easily alleviates people's worries, ends by saying he will go into the woods and prove it’s not magic that’s haunting them; he stands as an example. It’s usually unthinkable for a king to do such things, but he’s always been odd even without the eyes, always determined to do things himself.
Still was bringing a gardener, a simple, stupid boy named Gigerbrave. Someone he could deceive into thinking he’d stepped in every fairy ring and visited every Hawthorn tree broke every rule without any trouble. He’s heard of people stepping into fairy rings before and being relieved that they didn’t get taken, only to be told that they just might not have been noticed. He couldn’t have that, so Shadow milk had said he’d break all the rules in this forest, then go on to the next if the rain didn't stop, so it would seem impossible that the ferries hadn’t noticed him or weren’t in that area. It was, of course, a lie, but a necessity one; he couldn’t have anyone to argue that the fairies just weren’t paying attention or somewhere else.
He did not have the time to go to every single one, and frankly, he did not want to be staying out in the rain in the forest with possible predators too long. Still, it will be a long, miserable trip with too much camping.
So that's the dumb gard. He still would have to visit Forrest to Forest if the rain didn’t stop, but at least he would only have to spend the limited time in each one, since you’d probably deceive the guard easily.
He would take candy apple or sapphire, but unfortunately, people knew they were too close and wouldn’t know that they would possibly cover for him. After his speech and getting the guard and everything he might need, they went to the edge of the forest, waving theatrically to his people as he entered Gingerbrave, of course, carrying his stuff.
Shadow milk weighs in till they're out of sight before he pulls off his crown, puts it in his small bag and pulls up his cloak, which is oiled to redirect the rain. Shadow milk starts to talk mindlessly. “So do you think we’ll find any fairy rings to step for me to step in before we reach the tree?” Shadow melt asks cheekily. Hawthorn trees, fairy trees he guessed, and Sealy entrances were easiest for him to find; they were noted down by skittish people to avoid, well, fairy rings could show up almost anywhere, being mushrooms that just had to be in a circle. Therefore, it was impossible to find them all, but he still would step into every one he came across just to make a point.
Gigerbrave smiles but looks pensive, “Are you really sure it’s a good idea?” “All my ideas are good, besides, weren’t you paying attention?! The whole point of this is to break the make-believe rules,” Shadow milk scoffs. “I know, but some things you shouldn’t mess with. I’m not sure I can protect you in the small space of a feiry circle,” Gigerbrave said. Shadow milk almost laughs, but holds it back. If it really was magic, what could a sword do against it?
Still, Gingerbrave is the one with the sword; maybe he should’ve also brought his. Even if he didn’t believe in fairies and other such stuff, he wasn’t dumb enough to doubt that there were other dangerous things in the forest. But it’s probably being no good if he had a blade, he’d never been good at using it, he didn’t even know how to hold it properly, using it more like a prop or a cane than an actual sword. Usually, it was required for princes, especially boys, to learn the sword, but he never much took to it except when he was doing a stage play, which he would occasionally sneak out to do. Some were too stubborn to try, but even they had given up after he’d injured himself.
“Well, there’s one already, so let’s test your valour, dear knight,” Shadow milk chirped, already skipping to said ring. It was old and rotting a bit. The smell of wet mushrooms and mould wafted up his nose, unpleasantly as he got stepped inside and of course nothing happened. ” See?” he started to step out, but his boot sank and launched forward, landing face first, leaving his left boot behind. “Are you ok?!” Asks Ginger Brave, rushing over. “I just fell to my knees to kiss the ground for not taking me. Of course, I’m not fine.” Shadow milk spits out the mud in his mouth. Ugh, he’s already dirty. It was already a matter of time with the rain and mud but he’s not pleased. Still, he was well prepared for this weather.
Ginger Brave offers his hand, “Give me one of my extra boots first, you idiot,” Shadow Milk points out, rolling over onto his back bed, sitting up on his cape, careful to keep his now unprotected foot from the mud.
If he had to march through the rest of the day with wet socks, pulling this stunt, then he might just give up, turn around and go back home to try again next time. Shadow milk knows that’s impossible, but he’s always been the drama. “Oh, right,” Ginger Brave smiles, stopping his movement. He puts the bag down, digging in it until he brings out the extra boots that Shadow brought just in case of such an occasion. Shadow Milk grabs the boot and pulls it on before standing up. “Now I should see if I can get my boot back,” Shadow Milk declared, standing and walking over. “Really? Well, if you say so,” Ginger Brave looks at the boot warily. It’s stuck in the fairy ring. Oh, so that’s why he didn’t offer to get it; he was still afraid of a stupid circle. Shadow bends down just outside and yanks on him, but his heels just slide. Shadow milk huffs, really, this was a commoner's work; he wasn’t used to dirty work. But he had to try to see if his dumb guard wouldn’t. He digs his heels in to the muck to give it one more go. He gives a sharp tug, but the wet leather slips out of his grasp, and he lands on his butt unceremoniously.
“Fine mud keep my dumb boot, I hope you're very happy with it.” Shadow milk spits, jumping up. Finding the mud entirely too smug, he spins kicks at it before heading off. Ginger Brave is unfortunately used to the King's dramatics and capriciousness, so he doesn't really question it. “Well, if you decided only to take the boot and not him, then we’re grateful,” Ginger Brave mumbles. “Are you coming?! We don’t have all day unless we wait. Do you want me to get a whole art studio to frame the picture of my boots stuck in the mud?! That would be a great idea, I’ll go back to get the canvas to cement this mud's victory,” vents Shadowmelk. Ginger Brave comes running after him. Shaowmilk could be petty and might just pull that if it came to it.
It takes two hours to get to the fairy tree. which really is one big tree surrounded by a circle of much smaller ones. Really, it wasn’t as dangerous or not said so as a Sealy gate, but it was where ferries were supposed to meet, and it was still unthinkable to develop the land anywhere near them. By that time, it had at least turned into a light drizzle.
Giger bravely stops at the edge of the circle once again, tentative. Shadow Milk steps don’t ever falter. He has never believed in the tales. What is even with fairies and circles?! Well, again, it’s not like he thinks they exist. Maybe it’s something about seeing something entirely symmetrical in nature? As Smart as Shadow milk considers himself, he doesn’t think he can understand why people assign meaning to meaningless things.
He’s wondering what to do to the tree when he hears a “bhaa,” and he turns to see a small cream-coloured lamb. “Your majesty!” Gigerbrave yells, jumping in front of him, drawing his sword. Shadow Milk looks at him in disdain, “What are you doing?” “It’s a fairy that can change shape, don’t you know?” Ginger Brave points out tensely. Ah, yes, he’s heard of this, a weight stag is even supposed to be a messenger of the other world. Well, why not have a little fun? “Oh, how pretty, I might just die if you leave just a mark on this gorgeous creature.” Shadow milk whines as he walks around his silly garden. He can’t see it, but he’s sure Gigerbrave’s eyes are wide, and certainly he can hear him sputtering.
Shadow milk kneels and is surprised to see two mismatched eyes, one the yellow of the sun and the other like his light blue eye. “Why, I think we are fated to be you and me and him. " Look at our eyes,” croons Shadow Milk, looking into its eyes for a long, intimate moment. With an exaggerated tenderness, he grabs the animal by its face and kisses it right on its muzzle. Only his lighter eye sliding open just a fraction to witness the look on his poor guard's face, and maybe the animal's face too. With that, he can’t help it anymore. Shadow milk gives up the act and bursts out laughing, falling to the ground in his mirth. “ My loord” wines Gingerbrave. He probably thought Shadow milk had been besotted or cursed. “Oh, I had to with how you were looking at it. And you sheep don’t be so offended, you just gave me my first kiss.” Shadow milk grins, jumping up. The creature blinks a little mollified, given something. It must be a smart sheep, or he’s just projecting. Still, he really does like the thing. Not only do they have the rare condition of heterochromia in common, but the sheep is pretty and well-groomed. It must belong to someone an unusual sheep, not noticed among the thousands or some well-groomed thing from a freak show. The other fate for odd things. Maybe he could buy it from its owner whenhe’s done with this farce.
Shadow Milk digs in his belt and pulls out a rope. “What are you doing?” questions Gingerbrave as Shadow ties one end around its neck and the other around his waist. “ We can’t just leave the poor thing, it’s not wild, or it would have run or attacked,” Shadow Milk said matter-of-factly, tucking on the rope lightly to make sure it was secure. Gingerbrave looks unsure, but Shadow Milk has made him look foolish with his earlier performance, so he really can’t say much. “Besides, now we have something to carry our bags,” Shadowmilk points out. Ginger draws his lips together in a thin line, but he removes the pack, and they tie it to the sheep. It’s shockingly well behaved, not even trying to move away, just looking at him in utter disbelief.
Yes, he should have brought a horse or mule to do this, but for one, he hates the things. Two are busy with other duties, like carrying rocks to rivers so they don’t flood into the villages close to them. Not quite there yet, but sooner than he’d like, and it was better to do something than nothing. Clearing debris from the water flowing constantly into the town. Plus, they could be unruly because of the rain. So he’d planned to stop at other villages, well, he went about his task; there were many forests after all. It’s why the lie is so crucial, but why he will have to spend at least 4 days in each forest. He hadn't even dreamed of using a sheep. He didn't even think they would tolerate such things on their back. This one was probably just really well trained.
Dune the Sheep looks a little miffed and confused, but Shadow Milk just grins before turning to the tree. He knocks on it, “Helloooo, are there any pests inside? Specifically, the small magical types?” Shadow Sing sounged Shadow milk asked. Gigerbrave looks aghast, but nothing happens; he’s just asking to be teased at this point. He wonders if he should fake dyeing right then just to get another reaction out of him. Without giving it much more thought, he dramatically spins himself backwards and flings himself onto the sheep, “ uggg noo it got me,” he declares dramatically. This time, his guard looks slightly irritated as he sees shadow milk peeking up at him. “You need to stop doing that. I don’t know if you’re in real trouble or not,” Gigerbrave fumes. “Oh, I’m delightful, and everyone always wants to see my dramatic performances. Now let’s leave this clearing. I might not believe in fairies, but I know better than to be in a clearing where predators can easily see us.” Shadow Milk observed getting up again and brushing off his pants. from complete nonsense to actually intelligent people often told him he was impossible to predict.
Maybe he should do something to carve the tree to prove he was there, but since he’s not planning to go into every single hawthorn, that would only work against him if someone from one of his villages happened to see an unmarked tree after he made the declaration. besides, he’s not entirely sure how to do that without damaging the tree. He might not believe in fairies, but these were old trees and deserving of his respect, plus they were landmarks.
They walked until Shadow Milk deemed the ground safe enough. Enough trees and cover, and far from any possible rock slides or flooding, safe from anything other than minor inconveniences. It has even stopped raining for a time, which was a relief; hopefully, it would not rain all night, but the clouds and wind suggested otherwise. Shadow milk sat leaning on his new fluffy buddy, who only looked slightly bewildered. Well, Gingerbrave set up the tent and tarp.
Shadow milk sings a duet, his voice beautiful like a bluebird. High and pretty when it’s a woman’s part, and low and deep for the man. He thinks sheep might be staring at him while his guard doesn’t even look at him. He must’ve seen one of his performances before. Bummer. You've been hoping to scare the guard into thinking that he got cursed or there wassomeone in the forest singing with him, then laugh at him. Tell him how he can sing a woman's part, no problem. It was partly to the gas out of the whole fairy thing. If he did, Gingerbrave would start not believing in fairies, too and would spread that ideology around. The kid was strangely a big pillar to a lot of the villages and a lot followed his lead. Thy might listen, Shadow milk, but if Gingerbrave didn't believe, then thy might not eather and people would stop believing in such senseless things! Another part was that it was funny, and he liked pranks.
After it was all done, it was nothing fancy, but it would stop for rain ruining their campground and maybe help dry out a few logs. Yes, it might have gone quicker with two hands, but hey, he was king, and he would enjoy the little luxuries he had. When it was finally set up, he was ready to go to bed. They both sat, Ginger, brave, pulling some dried meat and dried fruit from the pack and offering a good portion to Shadow Milk. “Oh, what I’ll live on the next few days,” Shadow Milk complained, scrunching his nose up. He swears that the sheep seems to eye the meat. He grins, waving it in front of its face, its sideways eyes follow it though it's too weirdly pacent Shadow melk teases, holding it out “Are you sure” Ginger Brave starts to say. The Sheep starts to go for it before Shadow Milk stuffs it in his mouth. The poor thing looks almost Irrated. “Oh, don't go all sulky on me fur head. Meat would just make your stomach upset. Here have this instead:” Shadow Milk offers holding out an orange slice. The sheep looks at him doubtfully, but he gestures with his palm open, holding out the slice.
“For your Herculean effort today and for actually taking our bags,” Shadow milk commended. The sheep blinks, and slowly he feels its lips brushing his prom, taking the treat. It's weird, but somehow it seemed like a shiver up his spine, but he ignored it, returning to his irreverent attitude. “So, do you want me to tell a scary story?” asks Shadow Milk with unprecedented glee. “No, no, no, no, don’t even think about it. You’ve already scared me twice today. I am not sitting through one of your horrific stories,” Gingerbrave chanted, covering his ears. He has good reason for this, of course, Shadow milk is an excellent performer, he's as killer at storeys as he is singing.
“Fine, fine, then we'd best go to bed, then come on my darling fuz butt you’re sleeping with me tonight.” Shadow milk declared. Gigerbrave shoots him a bit of a dirty look for a reference to his earlier tease as he got up and stretched before swatting at the thing's butt to get it to go inside the tent. It jumped inside, utterly surprised by the daring motion. He followed soon after hearing his poor gardener mumble, "it's gonna bite you or something, and you're gonna deserve it", as he left him for the night watch. Gingerbraved is a trained soldier; he knows how to handle his night shifts, and they need a guard. He’ll sleep a few hours in the morning before they get going again, but Shadow Milk is a bit of a spoiled drama queen, so he will take his rest.
The sheep stares at him from inside the tent now, looking almost scandalized and something else he can’t place, but who is he to read into a sheep‘s emotions? He kneels pressing on the things back, “Oh, lay down, you fleabag, i’m generously sharing my tent with you now let’s get some rest before tomorrow comes and not only do I have to try through this awful forest, but I have to take care of my silly guard,” Shadow milk bemoans. Yes, yes, he talks to inanimate objects and animals, and even himself; usually, there’s not much that can stop him from talking. The thing looks him over doubtfully and looks slightly offended. “What You don’t think offering my tents enough for you? I knew that orange slice wasn’t enough” Shadow milk carries on barely paying attention while getting ready for bed.
“ Or,don't think I'm strong enough to watch over him, huh?! Well, let me tell you my fuzzy love, it's not all in the physical! You didn't see how I picked most paths and how I steered us away from the more eroded earth.” Shadow Milk huffs, pocketing its nose. That love thing was funny; he'd probably never stop joking about it.
The sheep didn't look like he believed him, though he swore the love thing gets a reaction. He's definitely projecting then. No surprise Shadow milk likes to get reactions after all. “Well. Whatever believe what you want I'll show you. Now will my deer sheep lie down if I tell him a story?” Shadow milk cagols patting the ground. The ship blinks a few times, huffs, and lies down. Shadow Milk cheers inwardly, awesome, a living heater now, this cold, damp night will not be so miserable. He truly is the best, most persuasive king~. He lies down, wrapping himself around the soft, woolly animal. The sheep waits patiently as he adjusts himself comfortably.“ ok so this isn't my best story, but it's my favourite.” Shadow milk starts looking at its mismatched eyes. he’s surprised and pleased to see that it has golden eyelashes.
He waits till it bobs its head as a sign to start. Then he takes on his storyteller voice, the one that gets people lost as if the words themselves are coming alive, “ ok so once there was this clever girl who was the best at telling stories. One day, because of her beauty, she was summoned with a bunch of other women to be candidates to be the queen. But this king was awful and paranoid; he would get engaged to one girl each morning, and by night, after being with them, he would execute the poor thing for some imagined infection.
She watched as girl after girl was killed until it was her turn. But by then she had a plan. When he summed up right after spending the night, she told half a story. The king was intrigued and tried to get her to finish, but of course, the clever girl knew better. She bowed and said, ‘She must retire, saying that if he wanted to hear the rest, he would have to summon her again. And so the foolish, tyrannical king did. Everyone was surprised that there was no execution the next morning or the day after that. The clever, intelligent girl kept telling stories, starting one after another, never finishing until there was enough time to start another good one, until that stupid, sighted king fell for her. Then he married her. After a few days, the usual advisors came to the king, so surprised to find only her instead sick, she said, and his doctors confirmed it. She gave advice instead, clever advice, citing everything in the kingdom that needed to be addressed with no capricious moods. It didn’t take long before they followed her advice without question, intelligent as she was. She was a great relief to the people, for a king so bad as to kill every girl that came to his chambers. Shurly does not have much love from his citizens. They did not mourn much when he died, and no one really questioned it. Maybe one of those girls really had been an assassin, or sleeping with them had caused some sort of disease. She ruled with great power and wisdom and stories for years to come without anyone bothering her again.”
The sheep tilts its head. “Oh, you’re wondering if she killed the king. Too bad. Part of the point of the story is not to know, and really, it doesn’t matter that was probably the best ending for everyone involved,” Shadow milk declared. The sheep gives him a look. He snorts, “Ooorr, are you just wondering why it sounds so familiar?” Asks Shadow Milk, running his hands over the sheep's midsection. He doesn’t even look to see how the sheep responds, staring up at the ceiling of the tent, “ yeah, it is based on another story, but in that one she stays married to that awful tyrannical king, like that’s some sort of reward. Like, despite being very clever, not doing anything wrong, that's the best thing she can hope for,” Shadow Milk grumbles unhappily. He’s not entirely just talking about her; that’s why he loves and hates the story so much. Sometimes he wonders if he just has to accept his fate like the girl from the original, accept that no matter what he does, his people won’t change their minds, won’t change for the better, that despite his cleverness, all he’s done and all he hopes to do. all his victories. All his defeats will just be laid to the fact that he was the changeling king.
That he was trapped in his fate. Shadow Milk senses the others, curious eyes on him. “Anyway, it is way past my bedtime, and I need to go get my beauty sleep. You know it takes a lot of sleep to be this fabulous” Shadow milk preened, waving the moment away effortlessly. He bary’s his face in the cloud soft wool. It’s just a stupid animal, but usually, he doesn’t allow himself to be any kind of vulnerable. He’s the king. He can’t afford it. The mismatched eyes watch him intensely as his eyes close, and falls asleep.